


Life at the palace (Markiplier ego)

by SamSnitch



Series: The Palace [1]
Category: Ego - Fandom - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), jacksepticeye
Genre: Dark, Ego, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Multi, Other, The Host - Freeform, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20667023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamSnitch/pseuds/SamSnitch
Summary: Just some random pieces of the egos life.(trigger warning! abusive/ manipulative relationship, manipulation in general, trauma and the rest will be added at the beginning of each part)There is one thing every inhabitant of the Palace should keep in mind...Lock your door if Wilford is on the run or be prepared to chace the man ^^





	1. The pain of finding a pen and an army of squirels chasing pink cotton candy

The host was usually one of the only pliers able to enjoy some 'Quiet' privacy, their leader had made sure to give him a room near his office, ensuring that no one ould dare to interrupt his precious author.  
There weren't many rules, at east rules nearly everyone respected in one way or the other, do not disturb Dark was one of them; do not leave your door open while Willford was looking for any occupation was another, even if unwritten.  
Sadly that day, The Host couldn't find any ways to continue his current tale and decide, after hours of searching through the infinite possibilities, to make space for some coffee, leaving his office unattended and the door wide open.

By the time The Host came back, the pink ego had already retreated; Nothing seemed to be out of place and no piece of pink glitter nor sticky prints could be spotted. The Host could smell something sweet laying in the heavy stagnating air but since nothing had been touched, he didn't think much of it and went back to work.

The black water seemed tho be the exact component the Hosts mind has lurked for, his finger traced over the paper, transcending his plane of existence! reaching out for...

The host suddenly noticed something, one of his pens was missing. Whit a calm hand he mooved a few papers and books to ensure it hadn't rolled underneath them during The Hosts frenzy. Nothing. The Host couldn't find any clews. The pen was gone.

Forgetting his current work and shortening deadline, The host rushed out, raced through the halls, searching, hunting for ridiculously the pink-haired man.

None of the others could help him in his quest. Most of them were glad the pink tornado had passed them without any glance, for once.  
The king was the only one who could still find a way to assist the writer in his adventure. Whit a sharp whistle every single subject oh his was mobilised. It didn't take them long to localize the sticky fraud.  
Soon the chase begins.  
Animals and egos chased him paws in hand. After only 60 minutes they cornered him near the leaders' office.  
Carefully they surrounded him; trying to save themselves from further consequences, until the catastrophe exploded in manic laughter and hysterical giggling, ignoring the praying hands begging him to quiet down. The dark wooden door slammed open, nearly breaking the wall behind t, uncovering a darkened elegant office, Dark was sitting behind his desk, empty eyes staring at the party with growing annoyance. The air heavy with his corruption tightened the Host throat.

The Host couldn't even start any attempt on explaining before the child-man jumped forward with a single giggle made his way across the room.  
The air became unbreathable while he hugged the stiffening man whit seemingly too much strength, displacing the broken neck with an unholy cracking.

The Host turned around to look at his 'friend' but the coward had already made his escape.  
Dark schooling was quick and painful, he used every word in the dictionary to make a fool of the scrib.

Demoralized the writer walked away still missing his trusted tool, determined to find another way to obligate his return...

Andkl you called an emergency meeting.... for..... this!?  
The doctor voice expressed his exhaustion, he had spent the night talking care of the too flashy android after it had once more tried to defy the googles

-And could you PLEASE stop!  
I can only take so much of your narration!!!

The host apologized again and politely asked for his tool to be returned, while the dark eyes priceless practician scruffed through his un maintained scruffy hair in annoyance.

-It's a pen! Get a new one and leave the real adults to work!

The annoyed replied as expected from an ignorant fool, the Host responded by telling the foolish practician that this pen was his and he wouldn't stop narrating LOUDLY until it was returned, queeping the 'adults' of the house from fooling around in their playground.  
The hot smiled at the shared exhausted glares and happily watched their leader retrieve the black tool from his handyman before handing it over to the host shutting his mouth.... for now. ^^


	2. Brothers eye and coton candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute story about Brothership  
( no Warnings needed this is just nice and cute ^^ enjoy!)

It was too early for him, way too early to race through the still sleeping streets.  
The cold blue morning light seemed to encourage his thoughts, leading him back to his warm and comfortable fluffy bed.

His bag weight mountain, his shoulder ached at each steep, his face was already marked with by the pained effort. He gasped some of the fresh morning air.  
How could anyone be up this early?  
How could he not?  
It had always been his mission; "Protect him" his mother had whispered into their last embrace before both took the train towards the big city. "Take care of him" she had written as they both found employment.  
"Do not leave him alone", she always repeated, and he didn't, he couldn't even think of leaving his side, he would die for him, his little brother.  
Nothing could scare him more than to see tears flow down his face.

The younger brother looked back, his cheeks reddened by the cold air, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, made the pain and fatigue vanish.  
Yes, he could carry on.

Their self proclaimed leader had sent them out once more to make sure his favourite would be well watched once more.  
The young men had proven long ago to be the best hound the dark one possessed, no one could escape his 6th sense, even the pink lunatic couldn't escape him.  
Even the house ghost couldn't; the boy had found him on the first try, had backed him into one of the manours corners before the older could catch up with him.  
He would have arrived too late if the dark one hadn't stepped between his brother and the strange entity.  
He owed him his brothers life, and swore to help him babysit his favourite cotton candy killer, who surprisingly enough was able to employ them both! and this for a pretty good wage!

They couldn't complain, housing and food were offered for free while they both still made enough to travel and support their siblings.

-There he is!!!

The younger screamed ver his shoulder barely waiting for one heartbeat before rushing after the barely visible head hidden between the tree branches.

A small chuckle escaped him, he would have never looked up there. He pushed his camera onto his aching shoulder and with one beath the ran after his precious reporter, careful to keep him in his cameras eye.


End file.
